Red Light Green Light Black
by sherrybaby
Summary: "Frankly, Two-Bit was a little relieved; he wasn't keen on seeing one of the gang lying up in a hospital bed..."
1. white walls

I know this is one of my shorter ones, but I hope you enjoy. I may pick this up as an actual story later on, so I'm leaving it open-ended for now (spoiler: Pony lives). Comments are always always appreciated, but all I ask is, if you requested these stories, to please comment and let me know what you think. Dedicated to **sadicofan** for the prompt, which is, as always, at the end!

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Two-Bit shifted his weight in the uncomfortable plastic chair. He was at a loss for words for the second time in his life; the first being when Johnny got jumped. He wanted so badly to ease the tension, but like that night months ago, no jokes or witty quips came to him. Instead, he surveyed the scene. Steve lay stretched out across the chairs opposite him, softly snoring. Darry sat a seat away on Two-Bit's right, arms crossed, long legs stretched out into the aisle. Sodapop rested his head on one of Darry's broad shoulders, dozing lightly. He occasionally murmured in his sleep, but none of it made sense. Johnny and Dal were getting coffee for everyone. The minute hand on the clock ticked forward.

Two hours ago, they had been playing football in the vacant lot. Ponyboy had been with his parents, coming home from the grocery store. Two hours ago, the boys were laughing and goofing around and now they were sitting in a cold waiting room. They sure were a sight: six bruised and muddy silent greasers taking up space in a clean white room. He saw the looks passersby gave them, their judgmental faces saying it all; " _Those good-for-nothing boys are always in here for fighting."_ The sneers almost became too much. Instead, the six of them quietly waited with baited breath to find out the fate of a young boy.

The Curtis's were almost home when they had been hit head-on by a drunk driver. Mr. and Mrs. Curtis had been killed instantly and Two-Bit couldn't help but be thankful for that. At least they didn't suffer. Ponyboy, on the other hand, was in critical condition.

Johnny and Dal came around, passing out warm cups of coffee before taking seats immediately to Two-Bit's left. Dally passed around a carton of Marlboro's, which Two-Bit accepted, glad to have something to quell his shaking hands.

He was mad as hell; he couldn't even imagine what Darry and Soda felt. Darry was as stony-faced as ever, taking his parents' death in stride. He had this ability to accept things as they were and use that information- good and bad- to make himself a stronger person. He always kept a level head. Two-Bit admired it. Soda, on the other hand, broke. Steve had to physically restrain him from tearing down the hall and out the door, or worse, fighting the doctor. He was sound asleep now, but still had dried tear tracks on his face. Everyone else just looked dazed, like they had been socked in the stomach.

Mr. C was like a father to them, the only man they knew who stuck around for his kids, and tried to better their lives with unconditional love. He'd never raised a hand to any of them, only expressing his anger through disappointment, which, to most of them, felt worse. And Mrs. C was a ray of sunshine, the only women to put up with 7 rowdy boys and love them unconditionally. Shoot, she could even get through to Dallas, keep him out of trouble for a bit. She was like a second mother to Two-Bit, and the only for Johnny. They didn't know how they'd get along without 'em.

"Curtis?" A young nurse asked, clipboard in hand. Two-Bit thought she was kinda cute, maybe he'd try to wrangle her number outta her when this was all over. She looked like she could be a Soc; way out of his league, but he loved a good challenge.

Darry stood up in one swift motion, Soda right on his heels.

"Yes?"

"He's awake. He's asking for his brothers. You can see him before the surgery." Two-Bit could feel the air tighten around them with that last sentence.

"Surgery?" Soda whispered, his face as white as the walls surrounding them.

"He's in critical condition. Did the police not explain any of this to you?"

"We were told to wait for you," Darry said.

"He has several facial lacerations, from the windshield shattering, and some glass has been imbedded in his face. He has several broken ribs, one of which has punctured his right lung. We'll have to make an incision between his ribs to insert a large tube that will help expand his collapsed lung," the nurse explained. She said each word carefully, and coldly, but her eyes shimmered with sympathy. Partly, she felt bad for the boys who had just lost their parents in the same wreck, and partly because she didn't want the blond one- or any of them- making a scene again.

Darry and Sodapop went in, but the other four boys were stopped from entering.

"Family only." Dally scowled and he began to argue with the staff.

"We _are_ family, goddamnit!" Steve placed a hand on his arm.

"There's no use in fighting, Dal. We'll see him first thing tomorrow. Let his brothers have their time." Two-Bit thought that was kind of sweet; he knew Ponyboy figured Steve thought he was a nuisance, and maybe he did sometimes, but it was obvious he cared about the kid in his own Steve way. Frankly, Two-Bit was a little relieved; he wasn't keen on seeing one of the gang lying up in a hospital bed, especially not the baby. Johnny was the one they looked out for most, but Pony was the youngest, therefore, the baby.

The gang sat back down, as silent as ever, save for Dally, who was content to swear at every nurse and doctor that passed by, regardless of them working on Ponyboy's case or not.

"I gotta find some action," Dally spoke suddenly, standing up. He grew up on the streets, seen people murdered right in front of him in New York, but he couldn't stomach seeing people he cared about hurting. What he meant by that statement, they could only guess, but it made Two-Bit slightly sick, figuring he was going to hunt down the driver. He left, taking Steve with him, and 'Bit was grateful for the silence. Johnny wouldn't talk unless he had to.

But he was surprised when the younger boy quietly murmured.

"Ya think Pony's gonna be alright?"

"'Course he is, kid. He's tuff." He reached out and ruffled Johnny's hair a bit to emphasize how not-serious this was. Two-Bit's voice sang of confidence, but on the inside he wasn't so sure. Johnny's scar looked extra fierce in this florescent lighting and it made 'Bit wince. Pony no doubt would soon be carrying some scars of his own, if he made it. _No,_ Two-Bit mentally berated himself. _Not if. WHEN he made it. He had to._

Not too long after, Darry and Soda came back out, the doctor trailing behind, explaining the entire procedure to them. He'd be going into surgery any minute now.

All they could do was wait.

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 **Prompt: How about this ponyboy was in the car wreck with his parents and is hurt badly**


	2. nervous paces

Darry awoke with a start to find himself in his bed at home; it was 3 AM and he'd been asleep for just over three hours. The gang had finally convinced him to get some sleep outside of being slumped over plastic hospital chairs. Darry figured he'd never fall asleep, but somehow he had, though judging by how tired he was, he suspected it was somewhat restless. The house was eerily calm, only broken by Soda's light snoring, coming from the living room. Darry figured it made sense; Soda shared a room with Ponyboy. Just a few short hours ago, the brothers had seen Pony, bloodied and bruised with enough wires coming out of him, he could be a machine.

Ponyboy hadn't said much, other than a weak "hey" accompanied by a grimace; Soda shushed him, voice catching in his throat, and moved a chair closer to the bed, brushing Pony's hair back from his forehead. Darry took to pacing the same five steps back and forth, fighting back tears. They had been waiting for him to be wheeled into surgery, when the doctor explained the operation would have to be postponed a while longer. He didn't say anything more, but Darry knew what he had been thinking- _a more important case had come in- a Soc or something._ His fist had balled up so tight, the knuckles cracked before turning white under his taut skin, and he had to restrain himself from strangling the incompetent doctor. Soda looked at him with narrowed eyes as they trudged back out to the waiting room, where Johnny and Two-Bit still sat, filling the air with chain-smoked cigarettes. The two perked up, noting Soda's tear-streaked face and in turn were outraged at the news.

An hour later, the doctor came back, saying they were ready for surgery. Darry and Soda went to reassure the boy, whose wide eyes affirmed all their fears.

"You're gonna go in for surgery now, Pone. Don't be afraid. The doc'll fix you up and you'll come out good as new," Soda squeezed his hand in an attempt to comfort the both of them.

Darry gripped his youngest brother's shoulder and nodded in agreement. "You'll be fine, kiddo. We'll be here waiting." The boy muttered a rough "thank you" and his mouth twisted in a gruesome grin, slivers of glass still embedded in his cheek; it made Darry's stomach turn.

A nurse suggested they get some sleep as the surgery could be hours long, and it was already late. Darry started to protest, but Johnny and Two-Bit waved him off, saying they'd stay and keep watch.

Soda drove home, Darry suddenly too exhausted to keep his eyes open. That night, he listened to the sounds of Soda getting ready for a night on the couch. He rolled over on one side and stared at the wall until sleep overtook him for a short while.

Knowing more sleep was out of the question, Darry grabbed some water and headed to the arm chair, turning the TV off on his way. The chair was where their father did his best thinking, and Darry hoped it would work for him as well. He had been set to go to college in the fall, but watching his younger brother now, he wasn't so sure that would be an option. Soda was sprawled out on the couch, still fully dressed in a flannel and jeans; a wet spot had formed on the pillow, but whether from drool or tears, Darry did not know. head in hands and palmed away the few tears that slipped over his cheek.

" _Now what?"_


End file.
